


Memories in Frames

by Czeriah



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Depression, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinda, M/M, Meet-Cute, Not Really Canon Compliant, Photography, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Avengers (2012), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, chapter 2, i think, mention of suicide, mentions of depression, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czeriah/pseuds/Czeriah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whoever said that you couldn’t get bored in the 21st century was a liar. Oh don’t get it wrong, Steve loved it ! No polio, no war, much less poverty than before.  All in all it was pretty amazing. </p><p>But he was bored. So. Bored."</p><p>Or how a walk on the Brooklyn bridge can help you more than you could have ever thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bustybarnes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bustybarnes/gifts).



> Ok, couple of notes before we start.  
> This is my first fanfiction on this fandom. I am not American, and English is not my first language. Some of my dear friends on the other side of the Atlantic had the kindness of beta this little piece of writing (and I'm forever grateful to them for that). All remaining errors are mines. 
> 
> On that note, I wish to dedicate this to the beautiful girls of my skype gossip group wich help me go through my days at work. More specifically, thanks to BustyBarnes who helps me with my writing, and did the Beta for me. 
> 
> Finally, this was suppose to be funny. It's not. I'm sorry. The next part of it should, I promise. Steve is a sweetheart to write and I took great pleasure in putting him on paper, I hope a made him justice. Be kind with my OC's they are great girls.
> 
> I made a playlist for this fic (wich is basically what I'm listening when i write and some of the song that are or will appear later in the chapters) if you wanna check it out : https://open.spotify.com/user/1153457550/playlist/3EV0A0dna8OCiza9jLMYTk

Whoever said that you couldn’t get bored in the 21st century was a liar. Oh don’t get it wrong, Steve loved it ! No polio, no war, much less poverty than before.  All in all it was pretty amazing.

But he was bored. So. Bored.

You know, the good thing about the forties was that there was always something useful to do. People were so in need that just the smallest thing was great. Just a couple of nickels to spare for the first time in months? Let’s go see a picture! The parks were full of kids playing baseball, running in the street or selling newspapers.  
Nowadays? There so many films to see that one wouldn’t have enough time in a single lifetime to see them all. Oh, sure you could spend actual days browsing the Internet, meeting new people on one social media site or another, or even watching Netflix for hours. Amazing. Everybody will tell you how modern technologies are great, and they are, but nobody ever tells you about the headaches so many screen will give you, or how lonely you will still be.

The other problem was more physical. Everybody remembers how the serum made him healthy and saved his life on so many level, but they all tend to forget that it also made him hyperactive. Standing still for hours was alright as long as his mind was busy, and he discovered pretty quickly that watching TV wasn’t enough.

So yeah. Steve was bored and fidgety.

Netflix was great until he couldn’t make his legs stop shaking. He tried to stay focus on the TEDex he was watching but his mind was everywhere. Because, of course, he had to have PTSD _(or whatever they called it these days)_ on top of everything else, which put all the action movies out for now. Maybe the adrenaline would have put him at ease, but he still remembered the first time he tried to watch Terminator. Not a good idea. He had to explain to Shield financial why he needed a new sofa and a new television three days after arriving in his new apartment. That hasn’t been a great day at all. Shield financial were **scary**.

When he was like that, he knew that it was the last stop before going almost catatonic. Depression, they called it. Losing seventy years, your best friends and loves of your life would do that to a man, they said. He know that technically Peggy was still alive, but honestly, he wasn’t fooling anybody when he said that her age didn’t matter; and Bucky...well, he died only a couple of weeks ago for him. About now, he usually would be exploding a couple of punch bag in one of Shield’s Gym. But his last breakdown saw him breaking three dumbbells, about ten punching bags and three mirrors, so he was banned for two weeks.

Shield didn’t like it when you didn’t respect their equipment.

So here he was, sitting restlessly on his sofa, nothing to ground him, trying to feign interest in whatever the guy on TV was trying to explain.  
  
It was like asking a three days old puppy to stay still. A very emo hyperactive puppy.

“Ok. That’s it. I’m going mental. I’m going for a walk.”

He wasn’t stupid enough to think Shield hadn’t bugged the apartment so he had a lot of fun making them think he was crazy by talking to himself all the time. It was the small things, they used to say.

He turned off the screen before literally vaulting over the sofa on his way to grab his jacket. He walked straight to the door and flew the stairs down.

 

Brooklyn was still Brooklyn, even after all these years. He wandered around for a while before unconsciously taking the direction of the bridge.  
It was still early in the winter but already, the sun was setting earlier every day, and by the time he reached the middle, it was almost on top of the water. He stopped there, lost somewhere between here and then for a second. Behind him he could hear the cars, their sounds so different than the ones he remembered and so familiar at the same time. The skyline had changed, slightly, but not yet enough for him to feel like this wasn't his home. He could almost feel the reassuring presence of Bucky behind him, and if he closed his eyes and concentrated enough he was sure he could hear his voice….

 “Oh. My. God”

Or not.

“Don’t even think of moving.” It was a feminine voice. He must have been really lost in thought for her to sneak up on him. _Rogers, you’re getting sloppy in your old age_ ….

 “Marc, grab that camera and use it for something useful for once! If you miss this shot I swear to god I will throw you over the bridge right now.”

 Steve was really starting to wonder what could possibly going on behind him when he finally heard the soft click of one of those modern cameras.

  _Fury is going to kill me if that ends up on the internet…._ was all he could think for a second. He wasn’t really supposed to be outside. Nobody knew he had been thawed out and Shield was apparently adamant on keeping it a secret. He was pretty sure everybody had forgotten him anyway.

 His internal cursing was halted by the same female voice from before.

 “Sir, can you turn around? You have the best silhouette I have seriously ever seen. You an athlete? An actor? Both? Neither? Not that it really matter anyway…”

 “Eh...neither?”

 “Ever think of doing some? Modelling I mean? I could do so many thing with a guy like you. I know at least five artists, and I don’t even include myself in that number, who would kill for a chance to use you for their projects.”

 “Umm…”

 “Ok, it’s true that clothes wise you could do better. I mean you look like my grampa chose your outfit, but, well, I’m sure you would look good in a potato bag with a ratio like that.”

 The shy guy holding the camera shrugged and managed to slide a quick, “He does look like a Dorito,” while the woman was catching her breath.

 “He does, doesn’t he? So...what’s your name? I can’t really keep calling you Dorito Man in my head.”

 The blond stayed silent for a second, having no idea what to do.The two young adults were watching him expectantly.

 “I’m....Grant?”

 “Grant! Amazing! Nice to meet you, I’m Cassie by the way. That’s my card, give me a call if you’re ever interested in modelling for us. “

 She all but threw the card to his face. He grabbed it, warily, and watched them wave goodbye while they left. Long after they disappeared he could still hear her voice, carried by the wind.

 “I need to see these picture on a big screen like, yesterday Marc.”

 What the hell just happened? Steve was feeling a bit like a guy who just escaped a tornado and wasn’t exactly sure if he dreamed it or if it was real. He looked at the card the lady just gave him.

 

 

Modelling? That never was something he would have thought of, but he remembered how much fun he used to have in the USO, after the first couple of weeks, and then with the Commandos for the newsreels.  
On the plus side, there was also a high chance  to piss off Fury if he ever found out, and something in Steve was really happy about that.He slowly started to walk back home, enjoying the fresh air, the noise, the light that would never really stop being Brooklyn. He was feeling much calmer than before.

He safely tucked the card in his pocket, already planning on checking that out back to his apartment. 

***

 

It actually took him a couple of day to find the time to google the B.A.M.S Agency, mostly because Shield has the worse timing, and found it very funny to decide that it was time to send him on his first mission.  
He came back three days, a broken rib, and a dozen of bruises later to his still empty apartment and flopped on the sofa. His eyes fell on the card which was conveniently next to his laptop on the coffee table and decided that now wasn’t a bad moment to check that out.

He opened Mozilla, and quickly googled the name on the card, not exactly sure what all the different logos at the bottom were. He found the website pretty easily and start browsing on the different options the agency was offering.

 

> “ **Formula 1 :** 0-17. This formula is for the kiddos, we offer you the  chance to have some professional pictures of your little ones. From babies to teenagers, with or without you, flexible is the word!”
> 
> “ **Formula 2 :** Wedding Day. We want your day to be magical. We help you in organising a themed photo shoot for your special day.” 
> 
> “ **Formula 3 :** Solo, easy going. Come with an idea or let one of our artist guide you. May require more than one session. In studio or outdoor.”
> 
> “ **Formula 4 :** Groups ; Up to 5 peoples, celebrate a great friendship with us. In studio or outdoor.”
> 
> “ **Formula 5 :** Artistic Nude ; Feeling naughty or just proud of your body? Show it to the world ! Adults Only. Single or couple”

 

Steve could feel the blush slowly creep on his cheeks, the fifth one was tempting just to see Fury’s face if he ever saw these pictures but he wasn’t sure he was confident enough in his body to tempt it. Maybe if Bucky or Peggy had been with him…But no, now was not the time to think about them, no matter how much it hurts.. The third one seemed safe enough. He could just let the artist do their job, maybe give a couple of ideas. A quick look at the clock told him that it was definitely too late to call to take the appointment, an email was probably the safest; waiting until the morning would give him too much chance to change his mind.  
  
He opened a new email and start to write :

> **To :** Cassidy Golden _(_ [ _Golden.cassidy@gmail.com_ ](mailto:Golden.cassidy@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **From :** Steven Grant Rogers _(_ [ _SGRogers1918@gmail.com_ ](mailto:SGRogers1918@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **Subject :** Modelling.
> 
> Madam,
> 
> I had the pleasure of meeting you on the Brooklyn Bridge a few days ago. I would have gotten back to you earlier, but unfortunately something came up at work and I was away for a couple of days.  
>  I had a look at your web site and I could be interested on trying the Formula number 3.  
>  Let me know what would be your earliest convenience as I am, for now, not needed anywhere.
> 
> Kind Regards,  
>  Grant Rogers.

He pressed the ‘send’ button really quickly, too worried he’d change his mind if he was to read it over. The whole thing had the taste of forbidden.

He hadn’t felt this alive in a very long time.

 

***

 The answer came a couple of days later.

> **To :** Steven Grant Rogers _(_ [ _SGRogers1918@gmail.com_ ](mailto:SGRogers1918@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **From :** Cassidy Golden _(_ [ _Golden.cassidy@gmail.com_ ](mailto:Golden.cassidy@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **Subject :** Re:Modelling.
> 
>  Oh boy.
> 
> You’re the wonderful Dorito shape man of the bridge.  
>  You have to come for a shoot, I can’t even believe you kept my card and now you actually WANT to work with me. Best Day Ever.  
>  Are you free this weekend? Saturday for lunch?  
>  Oh and please, don’t call me madam. That make me feel old.
> 
> I hope you are,  
>  Cassie G.

 He chuckled a little bit. This woman was definitely something.

> **To :** Cassidy Golden _(_ [ _Golden.cassidy@gmail.com_ ](mailto:Golden.cassidy@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **From :** Steven Grant Rogers _(_ [ _SGRogers1918@gmail.com_ ](mailto:SGRogers1918@gmail.com) _)_  
>  **Subject :** Re:Re:Modelling.
> 
>  Miss Golden,
> 
> I am very happy to see you remember me. Saturday is good for me. There is a café I’ve been wanting to try for the last week but lacked the excuse to go. Would you like to join me? It’s not too far from the Brooklyn Bridge. I think it is called Starbucks?  
>  Would around 12:30 would work for you? 
> 
> Kind Regards,  
>  Grant Rogers.

 

Just as he pressed send, his brand new Stark phone started ringing. 

“Rogers.”

 “Code 654, you are asked to report at headquarter in 30 minutes for the briefing.”

 The sigh that came out of Steve was super soldier sized.

 “Roger that. ETA 25 minutes.”

 He hung up and grabbed his keys. It was Tuesday, hopefully he wouldn’t be late for his date this time.

 

***

 

Steve arrived at the café twenty minute early. The place was pretty packed and obviously really popular. He couldn’t help but smile each time he would see the name, a sad smile, but there anyway.

“I think it’s the first time that I’ve seen someone so emo about Starbucks.”

He turned around, recognising the voice more than the face of Cassidy. After all their first encounter was more one sided than not. She was a pretty girl, straight bright red hair, obviously non natural, clear skin, large brown eyes and at least five piercings that he could count. He would never get used to how the young women looked  these days.

“It remind me of someone.”

“Sad story eh? I’m sorry about that.”

“It was….a long time ago.” It wasn’t, but sometimes, it really felt like it was.

“Anyway, let’s go get some coffee in our system ! We have a lot to talk about !”

Steve followed her into the line, and spent the next couple of minutes trying to understand how to order coffee in this place. After a while he decided to say goodbye to his dignity and asked Cassidy.

“Umm, Miss Golden?”

“Oh please call me Cassie! You can’t be much older than I am.”

“Ahh, okay, you know I’ve never been in a Starbucks, ever…”

“Never?! How is that even possible?’

“I. ..was away for a very long time.”

“Military? That explains the shape! Anyway, just ask for a black americano if you just want a black coffee. You seem the type of guy drinking that.”

“Ok. Sounds good.”

The moment to order arrived and if you put aside the awkwardness and the misunderstanding with the size of the coffee, it went pretty smoothly…

“I can't believe the prices these days. $2.15 for that!”

Steve was mostly mumbling for himself, still not used to the inflation that had taken place in his seventy years MIA. Cassidy looked at him for a second before agreeing.

“I know right! But the shit is good. C’mon and let's sit so we can talk about what you have in mind for your shoot.”

He followed her like a lost puppy in a strange forest. He was, in his opinion, pretty well adjusted to the future, but he wasn’t completely used to all the people yet. In his memories, New York wasn’t so full of people, or noises, so many different languages, or so many different cultures. It was a bit overwhelming on his best day, almost unbearable on his worse.

Cassie sat down on a small table in a corner, far enough from the big of the crowd to make him feel better.  
She waited for him to have seat down in front of her, and watched him took a sip of his coffee. The face he made, made her chuckled.

“You’ve never had coffee before or what ?”

“The coffee is...different from what I’m used to.”

“Good different I hope?”

 

“You have no idea.” He made a short pause to take another mouthful of the perfect coffee in front of him. “So. Did you have anything in mind for the...photoshoot ?”

 She started to positively glow with excitement.

 “Oh My God, yes! So many ideas. You have this boyscout kind of vibe coming off of you, so we could go from here and slowly work toward something in opposition to that. I can see at least two shoots, maybe three. Do you have a lot of free time? When is good for you? Are you free tomorrow? Or maybe...”

 Steve didn’t really know if he should really answer any of these questions. If his past experience with art frenzy were anything to go on, she was listening to nothing but her own voice, or at least he used to do that when he got this excited about a project. He used to draw a lot courtesy of all the time he used to spend bedridden. Now, he couldn’t hold a pen much anymore. His hands shook too much to draw a straight line. He couldn’t concentrate enough to draw a single picture worth showing. Not that he had anyone to show it to anyway....

 “..ant? Grant? You still with me, buddy?”

 He shook his head.

 “Sorry Miss Golden, I got lost in thought for a moment. I think I am free tomorrow, if you just let me send a couple of messages I can make sure my schedule is clear?”

 “Amazing! Do that. I’m gonna get a refill. You want the same one?”

 “You know what, get me what you’re having.”

 “Feeling adventurous? Tall mocha it is then.”

 He watched her approach the counter to place her order. The line hadn’t gotten any shorter since they arrived, which never ceased to amaze him. He took out his phone and unlocked it to send a message to Maria Hill.

 

> **To :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)  
>  _ Please inform Fury that I will be unreachable for any missions for the next three days.
> 
>  
> 
> **From :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)_  
>  **To :** Captain Rogers.  
>  Care to explain Cap?
> 
>  
> 
> **To :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)  
>  _ Not particularly.
> 
>  
> 
> **From :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)_  
>  **To :** Captain Rogers  
>  He won’t like that, you know.
> 
>  
> 
> **To :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)  
>  _ How sad is that. I’ll turn off my phone and I do not wish to be contacted or followed. I will know.
> 
>  
> 
> **From :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)_  
>  **To :** Captain Rogers  
>  Roger that. I’ll do my best. Have a good weekend?
> 
>  
> 
> **To :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)  
>  _ Thank you Miss Hill. Same to you..
> 
>  
> 
> **From :** Maria Hill _(Blocked Number)  
>  _**To :** Captain Rogers  
>  :)

 

He was putting his phone back in his pocket when Cassidy dropped the full cup of a creamy, non coffee looking liquid in front of him.

 “And what is that?”

 “That is a mocha. Best invention of the century. Taste it.”

 Not one to back down from a challenge, Steve grabbed the cup a took a sip.

 “That’s…”

 “Heaven on earth? The exact perfect mix between coffee and chocolate? Yes, all of that. I know.”

 “My life will never be the same now, Miss Golden. I’m not sure you are aware of what you have just done.”

Her laugh was the first thing in a long time that seems to alleviate the weight on his lungs he didn't’ even realise he had. He smiled.

 "Ok. So tomorrow? Ten o’clock at the studio. You know where the studio is?” He nodded. “Good, don’t bring clothes, we have a huge wardrobe. Any allergy to make up?”

“Umm not that I know of.” The serum should take care of anything, he thought.

 “Amazing.” She paused and got a little shy, which was strange after so much openness. “So talk to me about you? I like to know who I am working with…”

 And so he start talking, using some of the cover story Shield had created for him and some of his real story, hoping he was a good enough liar to make her believe him.

 

***

 

He went home that night with a smile on his face for the first time since he has been defrosted.

 

***

 He woke up at five o’clock and went for a run. The quick pace put his mind at ease for a while, and the shower felt like it was washing more than the sweat. He put on some clean sweats and a T-Shirt, knowing that Cassidy was planning on making him change, and left his apartment, leaving his phone on the coffee table without a single hesitation. He arrived right on time at the studio and went straight to the receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Grant Rogers. I think Miss Golden might be waiting for me.”

“Oh. Yes of course. Let me just call her for you.”

The lady behind the desk was a petite brunette who looked a bit starstruck for a second before regaining her composure and grabbing the phone.

“Cassie, you could have warned me. He’s here. Uhh yes. Ok, see ya for lunch.”

“Cassidy said to direct you up to the third studio. The elevator is there, tenth floor on the right.”

“Any stairs?”

“Hum, yes, right here.”

He nodded and thanked her for her help before going for the stairs. From the corner of his eye, he could see her watch him leaving, her eyes round as she picked up the phone again.

The last thing he heard before the door closed behind him was : “Where did you find him? On a bridge? Really? He’s on his way, on the stairs. Ok. Bye. I hate you right now.”

He smiled and continued his way.

 

***

Steve arrived in front of the Studio Three’s door without even breaking a sweat and knocked on the door before slowly opening it.

“Miss Golden?”

“Oh, Grant, that was quick! And I told you to call me Cassie.”

“Oh sorry...Cassie.” He paused to look around, trying to see something familiar in all the equipment around. “Where do you want me?”

“Go do your makeup and outfit with Desirée. I need to finish the set design with Rachel here.”

Steve was feeling a little bit overwhelmed by all the names, but smiled anyway. He could do that.

The perky lady named Desirée, call-me-Desi, sat him down authoritatively in the chair in front of the mirror and start applying foundation on his face while she spoke.

“Cassie was right. I’ve got almost nothing to do with skin like yours. You’re running me out of a job. Just a little foundation to even out things, some liner to bring out those baby blues, a little bit of blush for the sake of your cheekbones. What should we do with your hair…?”

Desirée was a quick worker, even if there wasn’t much work to begin with apparently, and the whole thing got wrapped up in 40 minutes. He came out of the area in a blue jacket, striped t-shirt, and a pair of white trousers much tighter than what he was used to.

The three ladies were talking next to the camera when he appeared and turned around to...gape at him. He suddenly remembered the first time Peggy looked at him in his brand new captain uniform. He could feel the blush creeping his cheeks and hoped that the makeup was hiding most of it.

“Good lord, Grant. You look like you just came out of the fifties. This hair cut suits you.”

His hair was parted on one side, gelled loosely and kept slightly long. It reminded him a bit on how Bucky used to wear it, before the war.

“Thanks. Desirée did a very good job. Much better than I ever could.”

The three ladies looked at each others and start giggling. It took them a couple of minutes to regain their seriousness and Cassidy finally clapped her hand before announcing that they would start with some seating pictures.  
Rachel grabbed Steve’s arm and started to pose him on a stool. Behind him, a blank white large piece of paper was displayed.

“Try not to look at the camera when Cassie doesn’t ask you to, and don’t forget to breathe.”

The studio was very much larger than what he first thought and had a lot more accessories than he expected. Cassie never let him getting accustomed to any kind of position, asking him to move almost freely, stopping him when she was seeing something that she really wanted more pictures of. It was actually really fun, and much more tiring than you’d expect. Desirée was never too far for any retouches of makeup and Rachel was constantly bringing ideas or new items to hold, or poses to try.

After a couple hours, everybody agreed on a lunch break. Steve was invited to join them in the little sandwich joint they were all going, which he agreed to .He probably scared them all with his order, which consisted of most of everything they had left. He sat down silently and listened to the girls talking about everything and nothing. It reminded him so strongly of his time with the USO that, if he closed his eyes, he could smell the make up powder and taste the perfume they would spray. The memory was so vivid that he felt his eyes getting wet with sadness, missing the times when things were that easy and everybody was away but alive. Bucky hadn’t fell, Peggy wasn't old, and despite being a juggling monkey, he was having fun with some wonderful ladies.  
When he reopened his eyes, he realised that the four girls had stop talking and were just looking at him. Rachel reached for his hand, like she understood.

On their way back, he could hear them talking much more quietly to each other.

“I told you, I think he is depressed. I think he was in the military, just got back.”

“You met him on the Brooklyn bridge, yeah? Do you think…”

“I don’t know, but I hope not. He looks so lost…”

“Is that why you offered him to do that? To cheer him up?”

“Partly, his sadness is beautiful, and I want to immortalise that, but I want to make some smiling pictures too. To show him there is some hope left...”

“Someone so pretty shouldn’t be sad…”

He smiled.

They went back upstairs to make some changes to the makeup as Cassidy was planning on going outside for the rest of the shoot.

“Come on! The weather is great, it’s not too cold yet, let’s go.”

“I think I have the perfect location!!” Rachel chimed in.

And boy, she did.

 

***

When Steve finally went home, he was literally dead on his feet. He felt worse than after a whole USO show, and maybe even worse than after a mission. His tiredness was mixed with joy, though, and that more than anything else made him look at what was inside the little USB key that Cassidy has given him at the end of the session.

 "Look at them tonight and then go to bed. We’ll see each other tomorrow. I have something even better than today in mind. Tell me if you like what you see for now.”

So he did. The first ones were ok, he guessed, but nothing spectacular. After a while you could see him starting to get more comfortable. At each photo, he could remember what the girls were saying, when they were trying to make him laugh, or to make him stop laughing. He suddenly felt so much gratefulness for these three smart women, who without even knowing him, were trying to make him feel better. 

And then, he opened the outdoor ones.

 He honestly couldn’t even recognise himself. He looked like Bucky had taken over his body, so much confidence, cockyness even. He felt the tears falling, trying to imagine him there, to picture what they would be like if he had been with him on the picture.  
He could almost hear Peggy gushing on how handsome he looked. Bucky approving, muttering a “of course he is, that’s my fella”.

He printed one and held it while he slept.

He slept a full night for the first time since he woke up from the ice.

>   
> 

***

 When he arrived at the studio the next morning, he surprised everybody by greeting Cassidy with a hug. She was the first surprised by that and was looking at her friends with panic in her eyes, her hands flapping lightly on each side of him, not too sure what to do with them. After a couple of seconds, she finally wrapped him in a protective embrace, patting his back lightly.

“Thank you. For the pictures, for yesterday, for everything.”

“I’m happy I’m helping.”

“You are Cassie, You are. All of you are.”  They stayed like that for a couple more minutes before Steve finally let her go.

“Ok. I’m ready for whatever you have prepared for today.”

She send him back to the makeup where Desirée was ready with her brushes and eyeshadows. Cassidy came in a while later, and started to explain what she had in mind for today’s session.

“Ok, so yesterday was made to compliment your inner boy scout. Today, we go dark. It’s great that you didn’t shave like I told you, even if I’m not sure how you manage to have a beard like that so quickly. You were as bare as baby's ass yesterday, I swear to God.”

“I have a very healthy pilosity ?”

“And a very healthy sense of humour too. I can hear that. Anyway, we might shave you later today for some more pics that I have in mind but I want you bearded for the beginning. Desi? Can you work something out and shape that a little bit?”

“Of course. Who do you think I am?”

He came out an hour later, wearing a blue suit, his hair lightly styled in a just out of the bed kind of way. Desi has used some of her makeup magic to make him look way more tired than he actually looked like, but a lot more like how he felt sometime. Cassidy inspected him for a second and asked him to move in the middle of the dark gray paper in the middle of the studio.

“Rachel, I’m thinking blue light.”

“I know, it’s already set up.”

“I love how you read my mind, dear.”

They spent a couple of hours moving around, changing some pieces of his outfits, playing with the light. Around two, the perky receptionist, Katherine, call-me-Katt, came to pick them up for lunch. When they came back, Cassidy send him back to Desi to make drastic changes.

“I want to make some changes now, shave him, cut his hair a little bit, lighter make up. I want this series to tell a story. but we have to make it backward because of the beard, you know.”

He came back outside with a slightly different suit and...a hat.

“You sure about that Cassie?”

“Oh yes I’m sure. Sit on the sofa, there.”

She sat him in the part of the studio which was set up like an old apartment. The sofa was red, flowery, but the light falling on it was eating all the brightness of it.

“Ok, sit down normally for now, and then when I say ‘top’, change poses. Get creative, get lost a little bit in your thought, literally try to forget I’m here. I’m gonna put some music, any requests?”

“Anything from the forties?”

“I can work with that. Any particular reason?”

 He paused. “No. I just really like the music from this period.”

 She didn’t push. She looked on spotify for a while before finding something that suited her. The low voice of Sinatra started slowly…

  _Fly me to the moon…_

 

Steve let the music slowly fill his mind. He didn’t know all the songs, but the known rythme of them, the quality of old records, were so different from the modern one. He start moving on the sofa, curling, uncurling, crouched in on himself when the song was almost too painful to hear, more open when it brought a good memory.

  _And let me play among the stars_

 At one point, he asked for a sketchbook, which Rachel brought him almost running. He start sketching, anything, everything. In the background, he could still hear the soft click of the camera, the whispers of the girls.

  _Let me see what spring is like, on Jupiter and Mars_

 All was blurry in his head, and when Cassidy decided she had enough to work with, it was a little bit like walking out of a dream. She send him for the third and last time to Desi, just stopping him on his way, grabbing his arm to tell him :

 “You are a natural, you know. I’m doing almost nothing here.”

  _In other words, hold my hands..._

 He thought about the picture, about how it made him feel like a part of them is still there. And he thinks he loved her a little bit for bringing that into his life.

  _In other words_

 “You’re doing enough for me.”

  _I love you._

 When he came back in the studio, he was clean shaven, short hair and in a tweed suit. He actually really liked it, and was planning on asking Cassidy if he could keep it afterward. The waistcoat hugged his chest in a way that strangely reminded him of his long lost suspenders, the tie a little bit too tight around his neck.

 A whistle stopped him in the middle of his thought. Cassidy looked at him with an approving look and Rachel made him move to the middle of the studio.

 “Oh, Cass, brown light ? A little orange maybe?”

 “Yes, all the yes. It’s gonna be phenomenal.”

 And it was.

 ***

 

Steve went home late that night. The girls had decided that he looked too good not to go out with them.They took him to one of the nightclub they liked, with not too many people and a very old school music. The cocktails were lovely, the Old Fashion reminding him a lot of the couple of time Bucky would take him out.  
He didn’t dance, despite the girl's numerous attempt, just stayed at the bar, keeping an eye on them, making sure nobody got too handsy.

He stayed there, and sometime, he could hear Bucky’s laugh over the music, telling him to go dancing. He remembered a beautiful red dress, on an even prettier girl.  
He could almost taste the lipstick on his lips sometime.

When he got home, after making sure all the girls arrived home safely, he plugged in his laptop and looked at the pictures.

He didn’t print any.

 

>       
> 

 

 ***

 

“You know, you can learn a lot of thing about people just by taking pictures of them.”

They were back in the small sandwich shop. They had decided to start later than usual today. Cassy was positive that she didn’t need as much time as before to get everything ready. Plus she said she needed evening light anyway. Not to mention that, after the drinking of the night before, the girls were a little bit more tired than usual.

“Hum ?” Steve looked at her and realised she was watching him.

“I feel like I know you better, somehow, even if we haven’t talked all that much. I know you’re an artist, that you sometime get so lost in thought it’s like you’re on another planet. I know that you are really lonely, and that you don’t really like your job.”

He smiled.

“And I know that when you smile like that, it’s not your real one. It’s the one you put on to please people.”

“Damn, lady.” He blushed.

“I’m good at watching people Grant. It’s my job. I watch them, and I place them in pictures. I live through them a little bit. I invent them stories, creates something new, something different. And somehow with you, all I can see is loneliness.”

There were a pause. It wasn’t awkward, or annoyed, it just was. And then he decided to talk.

“I lost friends, in the war. A lot, some more important than others. I lost them to time, to enemies, it’s all really blurry. But the result is the same, I’m alone here.” He took a breath. “I grew up in Brooklyn, and sometimes, I don’t even recognise the place. It’s like I’m out of time, out of reality. Everything seems so familiar, but there is always something wrong. I expect to see his smile, to smell her perfume. I expect to go home and have him sitting on the sofa, waiting for me. Or to go to work and have her in one of the offices. And they are never here.”

He stopped. He tried listen to her heartbeat. It was so loud he could almost feel it from the other side of the table. He heard her sniffing and could see her face a little bit, distorted from trying not to let the sadness take her.

“I’m sorry.”

That’s all he needed.

They walked back to the studio in silence, her small hand trying to cradle his, to bring some comfort. He was grateful for her presence, her friendliness. He was grateful she saw what everybody else seemed to ignore.

Once inside the studio, she turned around, her eyes a bit red, but her face cheerful once again.

“Ok, for today, I’ve got something completely different in mind. Don’t panic, we won’t do anything you don’t agree with, but I would like to do some very sexy poses, maybe some semi nude, even nude if you’re ok with it ?”

“Hum...maybe not nude?”

“ We’ll do as much you want.”

She sent him into Desi’s hand once again, while she and Rachel start preparing the “apartment” part of the studio, spreading rugs, rearranging furniture, putting things on the wall.

“Ok beautiful, good thing you didn’t shave again, I’m just gonna have to trim that shorter. How come your hair is back to be that long again. You’re going to have to tell me you secret.”

“It’s a secret serum. If I tell you, some people in black might come to kill all of us.” He wasn't kidding, but she couldn’t know that.

“Very funny.”

“I’ve been told I was.”

She giggled and start working on his hair, shaping it the way Cassidy wanted, and then trimmed his beard a little bit. Then she applied a light foundation, added some mascara and liner and sent him back to the studio….to find all lights off. Well, not all of them. A bright white projector was on, placing the scene in a crude white light, only softened by two smaller ones, red and blue.

“Put this on, and this shirt and go sit down there while I do the adjustment.”

He did as told, looking at her fumbling with the hundreds of buttons on her camera, turning the lights to make them fall the way she wanted, and finally, she turned to him.

“Ok it has to feel natural so let’s start as usual. Move, do whatever you want.”

Slowly, after a couple of pictures, he started to really relax, starting to play a little bit more with the camera, as she called it.

“Play with your shirt. Imagine that I’m a beautiful woman and you want to seduce me.”

He blushed at that. He really liked her, of course, but he couldn't make himself say that.

“Oh-kay ”

So he started to imagine Bucky next to her, watching him with his grey eyes, like he had done so often when they were sharing their small apartment. And he thought of Peggy, coming to visit him in the barracks, after the lights went down, finding them together more often than not. He remembered that evening, when all he had wanted was to tease them.  
How much he would have wanted to have picture of that evening.

And so he played, grabbing the hem of his shirt and slowly bringing it to his face and looking at Cassie, or more likely his imaginary Bucky next to her. He started to slowly take it off, showing a little bit more of his body, so perfect, but that he had started to hate because it prevented him joining Bucky in death.  
He let the shirt slide along his ribs, slowly tugging at the neck to take it off. Let it flow down his arms, to fall on the floor. He moved around, turning around, showing his back, ignoring the giggle that the girls can’t contain. He’s putting a show for someone that isn’t even here to see it.

“Lie down, grab the polaroid. Try to play with that.”

The voice sound like Peggy’s, so he followed the order. He grabbed the camera, looked at it, and pushed the button. He is surprised for a second by the light.

It’s almost an out of body kind of experience. He watches himself looking at this camera like it was his long lost lovers, like somehow he could make them see that he is still here, that he miss them. Like somehow, that would bring them back.

After a while, he put the camera down Just lying there, he thought back to that evening, he can hear Bucky’s laugh, he can see Peggy’s happiness while they cuddle between the sheets, sweaty but happy. And he smiled. In the middle of the cushions, in this studio, it’s the closest to them that he has been since that exact evening.

So he smiled slowly and the camera captured each second of it.

He come out of his trance to hear Cassidy asking him if he is comfortable with opening his trousers. He nod yes. He doesn’t care anymore, anything to feel close to them again, to make them see that he can’t live without them, but he will try. Cassidy asks him to stand on his knees, and he looks lost for a second, and then he moves again and it’s like nothing happened.

But the camera saw everything.

When he goes home that night, he looked at his phone for the first time and find it empty of messages. Somehow, he was hopping that someone had tried to reach him. He goes to his laptop and, following his last three days ritual, look at the pictures. And while he does, he remembers the last conversation he had with Cassidy before leaving the studio.

_“It has been wonderful working with you these last three days. I won’t use your pictures, they’re yours, and I’m grateful you had let me create them. You’re a wonderful person, Grant, don’t let the sadness become too important a part of you. Find some happiness, and if you need, just give me a call. I would love you to teach me how to draw. And, please, look at today series, really look at it. You might find some happiness in it.”_

He had hugged her again before he left, as well as the three other girls, promising to come back to see them.  
He slowly selected the folder and opened the pictures.

  
And he smiled.  


       

       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of Chris Evans' pictures (sadly), I just used them as references ;) I do own Cassidy's buisness card however ! xD 
> 
> I put a couple of hy own headcanon in there, like the super pilosity, I found that an hilarious idea that Steve could have a stupid problem like that. as well as his hyperactivity.  
> Fly me too the moon is like my favourite song in the whole wide world, so it had to apear somewhere. I know that it was written in 54, but humour me here please xD 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that, if you did, comments and kudos are good way of telling me. I've got the Part 2 coming (2500 words and counting already). However I'm preparing to move back to France in the next couple of month from London so i'm not sure when it will be posted. May be in two weeks, maybe later. 
> 
> Oh, I almost forgot, this all came from the last photos of the fic, wich made me thought "and what if the avenger discoverd Steve did a soft porn shoot before they met". So now you got an idea of what happened in the next one ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the New York invasion, some things change, some thing don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here is the second chapter of this. I love wrinting Steve in this verse, and I hope you will enjoy reading his evolution throught all of this.  
> Just so you know, I had this planned completely differently than it is here, but someow it appear Natasha had something to say. Not a big deal, I'm just gonna end up with a couple more chapters than expected.
> 
> As I said before, I'm not a native English speaker, thanks to the wonderful aprofessortale who had done the Beta it's not as bad as it could be but if you spot anything, just let me know ;)
> 
> If you wanna check out the playlist for this fic, it's right over there : https://open.spotify.com/user/1153457550/playlist/3EV0A0dna8OCiza9jLMYTk
> 
> And finally, I'm totally planing on having Bucky coming later, it's kind of a slow burn until there.

**Part II**

Months passed and and Steve couldn't believe that is was almost a year since they woke him up.

It sometimes felt like less, but most of the time it just felt like more.

He was better, he thought. He had friends, well four of them at least, he had a rhyme and reason to his life.

He always had somewhere to be, someone to see, a mission to attempt. He kept busy, tried to forget the sadness, to ignore the pain.

Somedays, he refused to ignore it. It swallowed him, like a black hole. Those days were the bad ones; the ones he would break his hands on a punch bag, or go for a ride, going as fast and far as his motorcycle would take him.

But there were good days too. The ones where he saw his girls, where he worked, when he wasn't feeling useless. Fury, seeing his progress, or was it his desperation to keep busy, let him train a few strike teams between missions.

He spent a lot of time at the studio, trying to draw again. Sometimes, all he could draw was grey eyes and brown hair, floating in the wind, falling, falling, falling….

And other times, it was all smiles and bright red hair, it was a stash of makeup and bright laughing faces.

Cassidy had managed to put a graphic tablet in his hands a couple months ago, and it's like she gave him the key to a whole new world. Somewhere where old and new could coexist. He enjoyed color, of course, but it was in the back and white that he found real satisfaction. He liked the contrasts, playing with it like he used to do with his charcoals. Learning how to mix computer graphics and his old fashion style.

He slowly started to fill his apartment with pictures and photographs. Old ones, new ones, some of the girls, never of himself.

It wasn’t much, but it made him feel a little bit closer to home.

***

And then, New York happened. The Avengers, his new team, new people to add to his routine. Hell, a new routine altogether.

It's not that he didn't like the changes. It's just that sometimes it felt like the past was flying away from him. He sometimes fears he will forget, that Peggy’s brown eyes will slowly start looking more and more like Tony’s. That Natasha’s smirk will take the place of Bucky's in his head.

It's not that he doesn't want to meet new people. He’s just scared that the new memories will somehow take the place of the old ones.

So he spends his time finding as many pictures of people from his time as he can. He paints them, draws them.

When he gets like that is when Cassidy is the most worried. She always fears he will withdraw too far, running after a memory that he can't quite reach and will fall too far away. Somewhere she can't reach him.

The first couple of meetings after the Chitauri Incident were….awkward to say the least. It was like the girls weren't sure if they should be pissed at him for not saying anything, annoyed not to have recognised him straight away or just really amused by the whole thing.

She promised once again to never publish the pictures without his consent. He was grateful, so grateful.

***

He had felt bad for a while to be happy that Brooklyn had been barely touched by the alien invasion. Selfishly, he didn't want the girls to be in danger. He couldn't bear the idea of his home being wiped out as easily as a sand castle.

***

Six months have past since the invasion.

He spent most of the time in the apartment he now shared with Cassidy, but he also had a whole floor in the newly named Avenger Tower _(courtesy of Tony Stark)_ that he only went when it was too complicated _(meaning that he was too injured to move)_ to go home. He also had a small place in Washington D.C., for his Shield obligations, in which he only spent one week per month.

The apartment sharing with Cassie had been a thing that had been going on for a while now, almost two months. The two had tried dating for a whole month before falling almost too easily into “we’re better as friends” kind of relationship. The whole thing had been so quiet and natural that absolutely nobody realised anything had happen.

No broken hearts, no epic fight. They even stayed cuddle partners during movie night and that was it.

Steve knew that he hadn't been ready for the commitment when it happened. And he knew he’d probably never be ready again. But he had needed the closeness, he had needed to try.

He wasn't really proud of himself but Cassie had understood, like she always did.

She had ended up living with him a little bit by accident, if they're honest. Her lease was up, her landlord was an asshole, and she didn't really like the apartment anyway. She was supposed to have stayed at Rachel’s until she found something else but a pipe had burst suddenly at Rachel’s and she refused to let Cassy sleep on a sofa soaked with water from God knows where.

Steve being Steve naturally offered his guest room in a “No charge, no rent, just feed the cat when I'm away” kind of deal that she couldn't really refuse even if she tried. Honestly, she said no but Steve went all ‘Do as your captain said’ on her and she had never been able to resist his puppy eyes.

So now she was holding the fort in Brooklyn, feeding America _(the cat)_ when he was away.

He was positive that absolutely nobody had any idea of what was going on with his life. Him being the the first one.

He was happy.

Maybe if he said it enough he would finally start believing it.

***

It all started when he overheard Pepper complaining about how hard it was to find a good photo studio in Manhattan.

“....You would think they would be great, but no! No artistic sense whatsoever. If I wanted some bland idiotic magazine pictures, I would’ve contacted a bland idiotic magazine, not an art studio! I just want something with character…”

Steve, curious and mostly really surprised on what could have put Pepper in such a mood, couldn’t resist asking what was that all about.

“I just want to organise a series of photoshoots for the team. Something a little more human than what we’ve been doing so far. To show everybody the humans behind the superheroes you know.”

“By that, she mean she wants to make them forget that we’ve destroyed half of the city by showing how handsome some of us are.” Tony cut her, looking at Steve, obviously trying to get a reaction. It failed.

“Do they have to be from Manhattan?”

“Not really, but I thought of starting by looking locally. Why?”

“I might know someone perfect for the job.” The silence that followed was almost as funny as Tony’s face.

‘Capsicle has friend outside of us? How did that even happen? Is he not considered a national treasure?”

“Actually Tony, she’s my roommate.” He turned toward Pepper. “I can get you her card or organise a meeting. In the meantime you can have a look at the website of her studio, B.A.M.S, Brooklyn Art and Modelling Studio. I should have some of her work on my laptop upstairs.”

Simultaneously J.A.R.V.I.S. was providing said website on the closest hologram screen. Both Stark and Pepper were looking at the screen with interest. After a couple of minutes, Pepper turned back to Steve with a very satisfied expression.

“That looks lovely. I would love to see what else she can do. Would you mind asking her to come by here sometime in the week?”

He nodded with a smile before slowly starting to leave. On his way to the elevator, he could hear Tony’s voice yelling at him.

“Hang on. Are we gonna talk about the fact that Cap is living with a woman? Outside of marriage? Was that even allowed in his time?”

“Tony?”

“Yes darling?”

“Please, shut up.”

Pepper’s voice was the last thing he heard before the door closed behind him. He smiled sadly before laughing a little bit.

He couldn’t wait to tell Cassidy and the Girls.

***

Contrary to popular belief, Steve was very comfortable with the whole talking to women thing. After all, he had a mother who had taken great care of educate him on the right way to speak to ladies. He used to take part in a lot of art classes and even used to work a little bit in fashion design for a magazine before the war. And, of course, the USO. How could anybody forget that?

He wasn’t really sure where the whole idea he could still be virgin was coming from, really. That was, to him, the biggest mystery of the 21st Century.

Anyway, all that aside, he positively adored Pepper Potts. He trusted her more than some of his teammates _(meaning Tony)_.

She invited him for lunch at least once a week _(two if their schedules allowed it)_. He was telling her things that nobody still alive and the girls knew. He positively couldn’t wait for them to meet. So, when she invited him to her favorite restaurant two days after their conversation, he decided to take with him a certain folder.

He knew that if one thing could definitely convince her that B.A.M.S was the perfect place for them to have their picture taken, that was that.

He showed up early, as per usual, and was there to open the door of her car and hold the chair while she sat down. Old habits die hard, as they say. And it never cost anything to be a gentleman. Even if Peggy would have killed him on the spot if he had tried to do that for her.

The were on coffee when he finally found the right moment to bring up the subject.

“Pepper? I have something to show you. But first, I want to make sure that this stays between us.”

“Of course, Steve. You know I would never repeat anything you tell me without your permission.”

He paused and took a deep breath before starting. “About a year and a half ago, I had the chance to meet these girls. I was in a bad place, and they were there for me even though they had no idea who I was at that time. They offered me a chance to model for them.”

“Are they the ones you were talking about the other day?”

“Yeah, they are. They helped me a lot. They are some of the best people I know. I want to show you the pictures we shot together. Take them as proof of their talent as well as their discretion. They swore to never use them for anything. You are the first person outside the four of us to ever see these.”

“Steve, I’m not sure I should see them. That seems pretty special to you.”

“They are, but you are also very special to me and I want to share that with you.”

She was quiet after that, silently going through the pictures, sometimes stopping to look at one a little more closely.

***

The evenings at the apartment were usually quiet. Steve never watched the news if he could avoid it, thinking that if the world really need saving he would more likely know it before the media. Also, he wasn't one to stay on the subject once it was done, thank you very much.

Cassidy loved cinema. Her room was full of posters, cinema tickets that she kept religiously, and as many goodies as she could afford.

He had asked her more than once why she wouldn't put her photo on the wall, and her answer was always the same : there was enough of it everywhere else in the flat.

It's not that Steve was obsessed with her work, it's just that he really, really liked it.

“So. I might have done something that will make you either hate me or love me.”

“More than usual you mean ?”

“What do you mean ?”

“Never mind. Tell me, what have you done now?”

“I might have gave your contact you Pepper Potts…”

“STEVE! Why on earth would you do that ? I haven't updated anything in month !”

“She was looking for someone to do the next Avengers photo op, and I thought, why the hell not ?”

She came out from the kitchen, covered in flour, cookie dough in her hair and a spatula raised like she was about to smack his head with it.

“I can’t believe you did that to me without any warning !”

“It was the heat of the moment. Kind of a ‘now or never’ you know. I saw an amazing opportunities for you so I went for it.”

“And I am very grateful. Surprised and a little annoyed too, but mostly grateful.”

“Sweet. She told me to invite you to the tower.”

“Steve.” She stopped for a long time, so long in fact that Steve started to be worried.

“What now ?”

“I love you, you know that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told a couple of times.” He smiled and turned back to the cartoon he was watching. “Oh, and by the way, I showed Them to Pepper.”

There was no doubt about what ‘them’ was referring to.

She didn’t dared say anything to that statement, waiting to see if there were more to it. She started to slowly return to the kitchen.

“And Tony thinks we are secretly married. I think.”

“WHAT?”

***

Steve took Cassie with him the next day to meet Pepper without a doubt that the encounter would be the start of a new friendship. The two women obviously shared some artistic views as well as a couple of others things that made them looking at him while giggling.

He was pretty sure at that point that he would never fully understand women.

The photoshoot was scheduled for two weeks later, time when Thor was suppose to come visit.

In those two weeks, Cassidy sure seemed to spend an awful amount of time with Pepper at the tower. She took quarter in one of the rooms on Steve’s floor and even brought all of America’s toys, apparently wanting to move the cat around as well.

Steve was not happy about that but he apparently had no say anymore on the matter.

The most surprising fact of the whole thing was how Cassidy seemed to have a sixth sense to avoid Tony Stark. Oh, the genius knew she was here, and he was trying everything he could to catch her, but the girl always managed to escape him. Steve found it absolutely hilarious.

Tony, on the other hand, was really annoyed by that. He tried to ask J.A.R.V.I.S’ help but Cassidy had somehow manage to become the A.I’s new favorite person in the short time she had spent at the tower and refused to help the genius.

It was a couple of days before the scheduled date that Cassidy barged into Steve’s living room, her hair in all places and an expression close to craziness.

“Steve ! Oh my god, Steve.”

He looked over the book he was trying to read, lounging on the sofa, raising an eyebrows.

“Hm ? What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, not a ghost, my muse probably, but not a ghost. Why, do ghost exist ? have you seen one ? Because I can deal with aliens but I’m not sure I can handle ghosts…”

“Not the point, but no, I don’t think they exist. What put you in this state ? I haven’t see you that excited since that time with this actor...what’s his name already…”

“Doesn’t matter,” She start walking frenetically around the sofa, her hand trying to convey whatever thought she had. “I was with Clint and Natasha downstairs in the range, and I got struck…”

“Struck? Where? are you hurt ?”

“Steve, shut up, I was struck by an idea ! God, let me finish my sentences before going all mother hen.”

“Hm, ok, an idea, what idea ?”

“You will see, for now, I need a rooftop garden, jungle styled if possible, lots of black leather, feathers, maybe some furs, Desi and Rachel.”

“Don’t forget to breathe.”

“I don’t have time for that, I need to call Pepper.”

Cassidy stopped net in her sentence and grabbed her phone to dial the CEO. She started to chatter excitedly to her about her idea while taking the direction of the door.

The silence was almost deafening when she closed the door behind her. Steve left out a slow breath before falling down in the sofa. So much for his plans of finishing his book.

It took Pepper and Cassidy the rest of the day to organise everything that the photographer had in mind, and by the end of it, Pepper was almost as high with excitement than Cassidy.

That evening, they were all gathered in the communal floor of the tower, Tony and Steve in the sofa, sharing a bowl of popcorn, while the two women were sitting with Clint and Natasha, the four of them leaning over a stash of sketch Cassidy had Steve made earlier that day.

“She’s something your girl.”

“Tony, she’s not my girl.”

“You can cut the crap you know.”

“She’s not my girl. We dated for a few weeks, it didn’t work out, we are friends. She’s almost like my sister.”

The billionaire looked at him for a second. “Wait. You are serious?”

“Yes. She...she helped me so much, offering her a roof seemed like a fair repayment for everything she did. I met her just after being defrosted, I was in a bad place. She did a lot for me, helping me find a place to...exist in this new century.”

Tony stayed silent for a long time, slowly assessing what Steve just told him.

“Steve, I know we’re not exactly friends, we didn’t really start on the right way together, but I want you to be honest with me.” He stopped, making sure to find the right words for what will follow. “Have you talked to someone about that ?”

“Well, I’m talking to you ?’

“That’s not what I meant Cap.”

Steve stood up from the sofa and slowly walked toward the large windows. Outside, the whole New York was glowing in the twilight. In the last couple of years, before the whole Chitauri fiasco, that have had something reassuring for him, the whole world had changed, but the stars ?

They always stayed the same.

In some way, he felt like he was like them, so bright, unmoving. That was what Captain America was supposed to be, an unmoving light in the sky. But what if it wasn’t what he wanted to be ?

“You know, when I woke up they told me we’ve walked on the moon, can you believe that ?” He kept his eyes turned to the sky, “They told me all the things we did, all the things we’ve accomplished. But, who is this ‘we’ ? I don’t feel a part of it. I wasn't there for that, I never did anything despite killing people, and trying not to die myself.” He paused, trying to keep his breathing in check. “When I woke up, they told me the name of the ones I lost to time, and I thought for a while that I would never have a ‘we’ again. And then I met Cassie. It sounds like nothing, what a difference a person can do in your life. But maybe, without her, I would have jumped off that bridge.”

He paused, turning toward Tony. “I tried talking to shrinks, they tried to give me pills, they tried to talk to me. Di you know there are no pills strong enough for me ? So I don’t bother. And talking, all they tell me is that I have to give it time.”

Steve’s eyes fell on the floor, Tony could see him curling his hands into fist, his fingernails so deep in his skin a small trail of blood started to run along his fingers.

“I’ve lost enough time already. I don’t want to give more to it. I have nothing left to give.”

For all his usual smart, Tony was at lost for words. He knew, somehow, that Cap had to be less well adjusted than he looked, but hearing all of it just made him look more human. They didn’t knew each other that well, but it felt like something had shifted in their relation.

“Well, if it helps, you are part of my ‘we’, Steve.”

The blonde's head snapped up to look at the engineer. He opened his mouth to say something but no words seemed to make the cut. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a feminine voice interrupted the staring contest.

“Steve ! Come and tell me what you think of this!”

The soldier seemed to snap back to where he was lost, he slowly start walking to the tables where everybody else was gathered. On his way, he stopped next to Tony for a second, his hand went to grab his shoulder.

“Thanks Tony.”

Tony watched him talking to their friends for a while, a small smile creeping up his face.

“Anytime Cap.”

From the way Steve’s eyes shifted toward him, he knew he’d been heard.

****

The next morning, most of the the resident Avengers were up with the sun. Steve was just coming back from his run when he got sent in the shower by a very hyperactive redhead who wanted to get on with the program as quick as possible.

Pepper has found a very pretty rooftop on a small building in Brooklyn that was perfect for what Cassidy had in mind. Tony was looking at everybody else minus Bruce and himself getting in the limo and waved them goodbye, Steve envied them.

Steve was silently sitting in the car, watching everybody chatting excitedly about the program of the day. Cassidy had a very particular idea of what she wanted and Steve wasn’t sure where he was fitting in all this.

The travel wasn’t really long and about half an hour later, JARVIS announced their arrival.

Cassidy took the reins and started ordering people around. Desi and Rachel were already waiting for them on the roof, Rachel completely entranced in her set design didn’t even seemed to realize they were even here.

Cassidy hurriedly hushed Natasha and Clint toward Desi, obviously not wanting to lose any more time in triviality. Steve was left there, a little lost, wondering more and more what he was needed for in all this.

The roof was a literal jungle, a greenhouse, full of plants and, surprisingly, birds. The colors were bright and warm, hot reds and powerful yellows. Vivid green, made shinny by the clear glass and the sun passing through it.

The blue sky, so light it was almost white in the early hour of the morning, was a stark contrast with the explosion of colors that was around them.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it ? I didn’t even know that was here.”

Steve turned to look at Cassy, she was standing behind him, looking at the top of the greenhouse, where leafs meets steel and glass.

“I have so many ideas, I’m really excited.”

“I’m glad, I knew you would enjoy it.”

She looked at him, obviously trying to figure out if there were something he was not telling her. He decided to take matter in his own hand.

“Did you need me for something ?”

“Your good looks, of course.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand to get him closer to a particular sturdy looking tree.

“Do you think it’s strong enough for Natasha to climb it ? I’m thinking of having her up there for some picture.”

He took a good look at the plant. “I think it will be fine but better ask her, She will know better than me.”

“And do you think Clint will be ok climbing the roof ?”

“That I can tell you he will be. This guy is a monkey when he put his mind to it.”

She hummed happily and turned around to the table where all her equipment was laid out. She slowly reached for one of the smallest camera and handed it to Steve.

“Here. Take that.”

“What? Why ?”

“I want you to take pictures too, I want you to be my eyes where I can’t see.”

“But, Cassy, I’m not that good with pictures, nothing will ever compare with what you will come up with....”

She looked at him with fire in her eyes, daring him to say no. Steve let out a sigh, she always managed to make him do whatever she wanted, she was a devil like that. She had this way of looking at you, this way of truly believing in you that was almost too heavy to carry.

He smiled softly, knowing how to recognised a lost battle when he saw one.

“I’m taking it, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna take any pictures.”

Her lips curved in a smell but knowing smile.

“I’m not worried about that.” She then turned around to see how Desi and her two models were doing.

***

It was getting close to midday, and the temperature in the greenhouse was getting warmer. Steve had no idea how Natasha could survive with so many layers of leather and not sweating. She looked as flawless as a greek Goddess, climbing trees and shyly touching flowers, looking at Clint like he was her next meal. Clint wasn’t so lucky, the girls had glueds countless feathers directly on his skin, making it obviously more and more itchy as the day flew by.

Their skin were so fair, all covered in black leather and brown feathers, surrounded by the glowing green of the trees. Natasha’s hair so bright, so red, the exact same shade as Peggy’s dress, as his mother’s lipstick…

The camera in his hand felt heavy, suddenly, like a dead corpse. he wasn’t really using it, just looking in the tiny hole sometime, trying to get a feel for it. He liked using a camera ok, but he had always been so much more confident with a pencil. His mother had owned a tiny camera once. Nothing fancy, He remembered that she had the film in it for years. Said she was keeping it for good occasions. She was the real photographer of the family. She was the one to make him draw, telling him that it will teach him patience.

He remembered that Bucky had kept it, for the couple years before he was sent to war. God knows where the camera was nowadays, lost, somewhere in the rubble of an old building.

The sound of Cassy’s choice of playlist was softly making everything sound like a dream. Natasha was dancing tothe tune, walking like a ballerina though the branches, looking at Clint with an air of longing Steve had never seen on anybody else than himself.

_Lying in the long grass Watching as the clouds pass Hands held in silence Your arms right around me Feeling glad you found me Feeling like I'm home_

They were like dancing with the music, gravitating around each other like satellites, always close but somehow never touching. Natasha’s gaze going fromone person to another, always, as if she was scared they might disappear. And it make so much sense to Steve, it struck something in him, that she could be like him, always scared that everything is an illusion, too good to be true, like everything will just go away, be out of their grasp again.

He didn't know her well, he'd read her files of course, he had to before the initiative, before the Chitauri. But then it had been words on paper, someone he didn't know. No. She hadn't even be someone for him at that point. She'd been ink and paper. Something he couldn’t much making himself care for.

_Wish you would remember April to September Wanting to be near me Waiting for the sunrise Staring into my eyes You and I alone_

He had been so selfish then. Not trying, not even wanting to know them. All he was seeing was that they weren't Peggy, they weren't Bucky. They wouldn't know him, know that he was still mourning his Ma, even 5 years after. That he was mourning his friends, his loves, mourning himself as well, in a way. He refused to see that they had to be hurting too, that their life hadn't been pink and flowers either.

He had Cassie. He didn't need anybody else. Sometimes, he even thought he didn’t need her. That he shouldn’t. Couldn’t.

But now he knew, how wrong he had been, how complex and interesting these people could be. That they didn't need to replace the ones he'd lost but they could alleviate the pain. Make it better somehow. He knew how each of them tried to hide their fear, conceal their panic. He knew how to see it even when they didn't wanna show it.

And Natasha. She was the easiest to read in a sense. She was so similar to him in so many ways. She was a soldier. She had her heart in the right place.

No. She wasn't like him at all. She was like Bucky. And that made her even easier to read for Steve.

This fear of losing, this way of caring for everybody but showing it in this tiniest ways.

_I wish that I could tell you All the things that you do Come back 'coz I'm gonna be a lonely girl again Come back 'coz I'm gonna be a lonely girl_

He could mostly see it in the way she was watching Clint. He knew the two had history, but for some reason there were no details in their respective files. Just one day they started being assigned to missions together and never stopped.

He wasn't too sure if they were friends, lovers, or something in between, and whatever they had he wasn't there to judge, but it reminded him a lot of how Bucky and him were.

Soulmates, in a way.

He could see how she looked like him too, the small cleft in her chin, the shape of her eyes, her smile, small, almost nonexistent. The way she carried herself, with ease and cockiness sometime.

He could see it, or maybe he was creating those things in his head, making her closer to the man he had lost, so long ago, making her look like the kid he could have had. But she was russian, born and bred, he had seen the birth certificate, with no parent name, just a big red classifed on it.

In his fantasy, she would be his child, someone would have found him, cared for him, a lovely woman in the forest. They would have tended to his wounds, given him love. He would have forgotten Steve, lived his life there and have kids. A little girl with red hair and a boy, maybe, with icy grey eyes and chocolate hair.

His finger pressed the button of the camera, it was a perfect shot. Natasha was perched on a branch, going down slowly until her mouth was only a couple of inches away from Clint’s, he was looking at her with love in his eyes, love and wisdom that this woman is much more than she showed everybody else. He has his bow on his back, his arrows clenched in his hand. Her fingers shily touching his jaw, while the others secured her hand around the creepers that were hanging from the trees.

The song had changed. Bittersweet, almost bewitching.

_We broke_

_Everything that was right_

_We both enjoyed a good fight_

The shutter went off, and Natasha fell. But Clint was there, like he always seemed to be for her. His arms grabbed her around the waist, pressing her against him, leaves falling all over them.

Steve pressed the button one more time.

_And we sewed_

_All the holes we had to breathe_

_To make the other one live_

They broke apart, slowly, like they were the only ones in the world, looking at each other like the blind look at the sun. Enjoying the warmth, with no knowledge of what is exactly in front of him.

Clint puts her slowly on the floor, never breaking their gazes apart. He kept her close, an arm still around her waist, making her look so tiny, like a child in his grip. His hand reached for her face, mirroring her earlier movements. He slowly put his finger on her lips and lightly kissed her forehead, his eyes closed.

_And I miss the way you made me feel_

_When we were alone_

_And I'll leave him just for you_

_And I'll shiver like I used to_

_Just for you_

_Could we learn to live right_

_And if we turn back time_

_Could we learn_

Steve pressed the button one last time, feeling almost like he shouldn’t have been there to see that. He was an intruder of sort. Witnessing something too pure for him. Something he used to have and lost. But he couldn’t stop watching. The music changed, for something happy and rhythmic, so different that it broke the charm.

Natasha started to laugh, her head falling against Clint shoulder, her shoulders shaking slightly. Cassidy came running toward them, having seen the whole scene. It’s has barely taken more than a couple of second, but for Steve it has seemed like a whole hour.

“We should take a break, eat something.” he heard the girls talking.

“I saw a small coffee shop around the corner, I’m sure we can grab some sandwich.”

“Yeah, and coffee !” Clint added. Everybody knew his addiction for coffee.

He followed the whole group to eat, Clint and Natasha still in costumes, not wanting to spend another hour in makeup after they come back. It was almost three in the afternoon now, the weather was still sunny and warm, even if much less than under the glass of the greenhouse. Steve had kept the camera around his neck, sometimes toying with it, turning it, weighing it.

He was so far gone that he didn’t realise that Natasha had come to stand next to him. She was always so silent when she moved, like her namesake, creeping in corner and making herself invisible. He jumped in surprise when she start talking, never quite expecting the low voice that came out of her petite stature.

“Sometimes I wonder what you think when you look at us.” She stopped, looking at him. “When I first arrived in America, it was with Clint. Well, I have been here before, for mission, but it was the first time that I was here on my own volition. I used to compare everything to Russia. It’s warmer in here, it’s noisier, It’s dirtier. I used to spend my days doing that.”

She paused, waiting a second to see if he was going to say something then continue.

“And then I realised that it would never be the same. It’s neither the same country nor the same people. You can find things that look the same, you can find Russians here in America. But they are not Russian anymore. I am not Russian anymore. But I’m not American either. I’m someone that has lived in two countries, that has had to unlearn everything she knew and relearn another way.”

She grabbed her hand and made him look at her.

“We are all strangers in our own country sometimes, but that’s fine. Home is what you make of it Steve. And I’m happy to count you as part of mine. I look forward to the day you will be able to say it back to me.”

Steve had never understood Natasha. And he probably never will, but right now, the way she looked at him was so similar to the way Bucky looked at him all these years ago, after the funeral…

_“I can go by myself, Buck”_

_“Yeah pal, I know, but the thing is, you don’t have to.”_

It was the same eyes, more green than grey, but the same shape. It was the same tone, the same understanding….

“When I look at you, sometimes, I see him.”

She was surprised, she was obviously not expecting him to speak.

“See who ?”

“Bucky. My Best friend, my best guy. He was my everything for so long, before the war, during. Like a brother, like the other part of myself. You have the same smile, even your face is similar. Sometimes when I look at you, all I can see is him. Sometimes, I like to think that maybe you’ve been sent to me to make things easier, like a reincarnation of sorts.” She stayed silent, looking at him with what looked like worry. “Sometimes I try to imagine what his kids could’ve looked like, but since I met you I can’t picture anything else than a tiny red haired daughter.” He chuckled softly at his own stupidity. “Ignore me, I’m just a senile old man.”

“I don’t remember my parents. I remember some teachers, in the red room, One of them in particular, he was so tall, broad and so calm and soft with me. The called him the American, he would sing me old russian lullabies to make me sleep, and sometimes he would sing me this old american song” She paused, trying to remember the melody. “ _I left my darling lying here, a lying here, a lying here, I left my darling lying here, To go and gather blaeberries….”_

_“Fhuair mi lorg an dobbrain duinn, an dobbrain duinn, an dobbarain duinn,...”_

Natasha looked at him with a shocked face. “How do you ? He would sometime sing it in this strange language too, I always thought he just forgot the lyrics and sang gibberish instead….”

“My Ma used to sang me this song, sometimes in gaelic, sometimes in english. She was Irish. Bucky learned it once when I was sick, he used to sing it to me every time...He couldn’t pronounce the gaelic for shit, mind you...It was a really known song for the Irish immigrant, he probably was one ?”

They continue walking in silence after that, and once arrived in the busy coffee shop, they ended up engaged in the differents conversations.

Much later, when they were walking back to the building, Natasha could hear Steve slowly singing at the back of the group.

_“I found the trail of the mountain mist, But ne'er a trace of baby, O! O! Hovan, Hovan Gorry og O, Gorry og, O, Gorry og, O, Hovan, Hovan Gorry og O, I've lost my darling baby, O!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I really hope you enjoyed that and I'll be overjoyed if I could have some feedback ;) 
> 
> Just in case it interest someone, the song that i used in this chapter ar these ones :  
> Lonely girl by Ocean Lab and Shivers By Lucy Rose. They are amazing songs so go check them out and be prepare to have a lot of songs in the next chapters.  
> The lullaby used at the end is a gaelic song that you can find here : A Fairy Lullaby (I Left My Darling Lying Here): http://www.contemplator.com/scotland/fairylul.html, i know it's not irish but humor me on this one.
> 
> Come and join me on tumblr ;) czeriah.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this ! I'm on Tumblr (http://czeriah.tumblr.com/) if you wanna get in touch ;)


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